


steady

by pennydrabbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Gender Neutral, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Reader Insert, Social Anxiety, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23607067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennydrabbles/pseuds/pennydrabbles
Summary: Prompt: Imagine Dean finding out you have social anxiety
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 46





	steady

Ever since you agreed to come to your friend’s party, you knew it would be a terrible idea. But you had developed a reputation among your circle of friends - the recluse, the killjoy, the one who never goes anywhere or does anything - and you wanted desperately to prove them wrong.

So out of spite, you had agreed to join the party, and you’d even bring a date.

Dean was fine. He cracked jokes, laughed, fitting right in.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t even make it one hour before the panic set in and you needed. to. get. out. Now.

You fled the party, shoved out the door and into the chilly night air. You gulped in heaving breaths, doubled over, your shaking hands braced on your knees.

“There you are,” Dean said after God only knew how long. You still couldn’t breathe, sweat slicked your spine, and you felt like your heart had morphed into a jackhammer, pounding at your ribs to escape. “You took off like a bat out of hell and I - “

He broke off at the sight of you hyperventilating. Dean crossed to your side in the blink of an eye and curled his fingers around your elbow.

“Whoa, hey, sweetheart, what’s going on?” he said.

You shook your head, still struggling to calm down. Dean frowned and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, guiding you to sit on the curb. 

“Head between your knees,” he said.

You let him gently direct your head downward, his hand resting between your shoulder blades with a comforting weight of warmth.

Gradually, your breathing returned to normal, punctuated by an occasional hiccup. You hugged your knees to your chest, studying the cracks in the sidewalk rather than look at Dean.

“You wanna tell me what just happened?” he said softly. His hand remained between your shoulder blades, grounding you, serving as a reminder that he was still there, he would always have your back.

“Panic attack,” you croaked.

“I got that much. About what?”

 _People,_ was the only answer that came to mind, but you couldn’t admit that to Dean. So you sat up straight and shook your head.

“It’s over now,” you said. “You can go back inside. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Dean’s frown deepened, transforming from concern to _hell no_. 

“Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t you dare blow me off. Two minutes ago, you were far from fine. And now you expect me to believe everything’s peachy?”

You pulled away, crossing your arms around your middle.

“You wouldn’t get it,” you countered.

“Try me,” Dean shot back.

“It feels like a war zone.”

Dean blinked, confused. “What?”

“Every little thing sets me on edge in there. I’m constantly wondering if people are laughing at me, judging me no matter what I do. Carrying a conversation feels like fingernails on a chalkboard. I never know what to say or how to act or anything and you - “ You blew out a breath, suddenly losing steam, your voice cracking. “You make it all look so damn easy.”

Dean’s gaze softened. He shifted closer, bumping his shoulder against yours. After a few seconds, you relented and reached for his hand. He twined his fingers with yours, his hand warm and solid against your palm.

“I hate being like this,” you whispered.

“Hey,” Dean said. He knocked your chin with a playful right hook. “This doesn’t define you. It sounds like hell, and you’re right, I don’t have any idea what you’re going through. But it’s not _you_.”

“I see it in people’s faces, Dean,” you said. “When I talk and I start to freak out, I make them uncomfortable. I’m that cringey person they can’t wait to get away from.”

Dean held up your interlocked hands. “Doesn’t look like I’m trying to get away.”

You ducked your head and snuggled against Dean’s shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere, babe,” he said. “But don’t shut me out next time, okay? I’m guessing it’s not easy, what you’re dealing with. Just…promise to hold onto me while you work things out, will you?”

“I promise.”

Dean leaned over and kissed your forehead. He lingered for a moment, eyes closed, before he pulled back.

“Why don’t we blow this popsicle stand?” he said. “I could use a burger and fries.”

“Food doesn’t solve everything, Dean.”

He shrugged, his gaze flickering over your face for a moment. Then he reached up and brushed his thumb over the curve of your lip.

“Yeah, I know. But it sure makes you happy and I’d do anything to see a smile on your face again.” His voice grew quieter. “You freaked me out a little, finding you…like that.”

You squeezed his hand, tipped your chin up and placed a chaste kiss at the corner of his lips, a feather-light apology.

“Can we get pie for dessert?” you said.

“Absolutely.”

“Let’s go.”


End file.
